Colour tattoo of the Cheshire Cat's wide grin and green eyes on the inner forearm, with watercolour-style splashes of blue, pink and orange.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cheshire Cat grin on a forearm

Forearm · Colour · Photo

A watercolour-style tattoo of the Cheshire Cat's head and toothy grin, with green eyes and pink-tipped ears, sits on the forearm. Soft, blended shading and loose paint-like splatters extend beyond the outline, with teal, violet, pink and orange tones. A gloved hand holds the arm, and the plain light background keeps the focus on the design.

Forearm Cheshire cat Cat Grin Splatter

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The barrier at Kell Ford had been repainted twice that winter, and twice the grin came back through the white. Sergeant Iva Marrow saw it first on a Tuesday, a crooked smile hanging over the wooden arm where nobody had painted one, its teeth picked out in orange like a row of sharpened pennies. The lads said it was damp. Iva said damp had no interest in which lorries were lying about their loads.

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The cat was never there when she looked straight at it. There was only the grin, and above it a pair of eyes, one green and one grey, watching the queue of vans that came up from the lowlands with their papers folded on their laps. Most drivers passed without a word. A timber man once stopped to ask why she kept staring at the gate, and she told him she was counting teeth.

On the last night of the month a van came up with its headlamps off. The driver had a box of tinned peaches on the passenger seat and a tale about a christening in the valley. Iva asked him to open the back. Behind the tins lay a painter's rag stiff with teal and violet, and a tin of orange gone to a skin. He had been slipping up the pass for a year, touching the grin up a little each month and letting the rain take the rest.

She said nothing about it. She lifted the arm and let him through, and behind her the grin on the timber widened as if it had waited all winter for somebody to be sensible. When she wiped her cuff later, orange came away on the cloth.